Ghosts of the Past
by onmyside
Summary: Charles Grigg returns to Downton Abbey and Charles Carson is once more confronted with his shameful past. But this time he does not have to face this man alone. Elsie Hughes is there to help him and so does Isobel Crawley.
1. Unwanted mail

_A/N Last night the team Downstairs detectives found out that Charles Grigg will return in series 04. There are a few behind the scenes pictures that show him and Elsie Hughes together in a taxi on their way to Crawley house. Because this is all very confusing (since when does Elsie know? Why a taxi? Why Isobel Crawley?) I decided to write a fic about what might happen. (I wanted this to be as close to the original series as possible but the first chapter already ruined my plan ;))_

**Ghosts of the Past**

"Telegram for you Mr Carson." Jack, one of the young hall boys, had just run into his pantry, without bothering to knock on the door. Charles had been ready to punish whoever dared to disturb him. He had already risen from his chair, furious at the tactlessness of the intruder. But he swallowed his anger when he saw the look of fear on the boy's face, instead he wordlessly took the telegram from Jack's hands and sent him out into the servant's hall with one angry glance. The door closed with a loud bang.

All morning Charles had tried to sort out the mess Thomas had made: wrong entries in the wine ledger! One line was missing, wrong numbers were added, the whole inventory was an utter chaos! He should have known better than to trust Thomas. The man was still too inexperienced in his position to take on such a responsibility. He probably did not even know how important this list was. For Thomas these were simply numbers and names but for Charles it meant the world. Downton Abbey was famous for its collection of fine, superior wines and he made sure they were always well stocked. Especially for the upcoming dinner party it was of utmost importance that Charles knew exactly what was stored in the wine cellar. Thanks to Thomas he would spend his day down there instead of dealing with his many other, likewise important, tasks. A telegram was the last thing he needed.

Probably some changes, last minutes, of the list of guests or some extra supplies Elsie had to organise from out of nowhere. With a huff he ripped open the envelope and took out the grey telegram. His eyes widened when he read the short message.

BACK IN TOWN. NEED YOUR HELP. MEET AT PUB AT TUESDAY 5TH. 7PM. GRIGG.

His past had once again caught up with him.

* * *

"I'll need you to take care of the dinner service tonight, together with Thomas of course." It was unusual for him to give her orders like that.

He was standing in the doorway to her sitting room, had not even taken the time to step inside, his eyes were restlessly scanning the corridor behind him. Was he expecting someone, had something happened she should be aware of?

Elsie got up from her chair, closed the linen inventory she had been working on and joined him at the door. She looked out into the deserted corridor. There was no one there except the usual noises from the kitchen, Mrs Patmore preparing the luncheon, and some of her maids carrying freshly pressed bed linen upstairs for the guest bedrooms.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost. What's wrong?" He still could not focus only on her face, behaved as if he was ready to flee from this place at the next given opportunity. "Has something happened?" She had never seen him that nervous and restless.

"Can you take care of the dinner tonight?" Charles repeated his question.

"But why?" Elsie would of course make sure that nothing delayed their schedule but she also needed to know what was wrong with him. He could be lost in his own thoughts from time to time but his present state worried her.

"I need to meet someone down in the village later." His deep voice sounded constrained as if he was in some sort of pain.

"Meet someone? Can't this person come here? Or respect that you have other things to do this evening?" She spoke in an equally hushed tone now and realized how ridiculous it must look to the other servants to see them standing here, whispering. "Can we talk about it inside my sitting room?" Her hand was already on his elbow and she had to drag him into the small room.

* * *

Once the door was closed, Charles could not stop clenching and unclenching his hands. He did not want her to be involved. It was a problem he had to deal with on his own. After all, Grigg was his shameful past and she should not bother with it. Wasn't it enough that he had told her about his time on the stage all these years ago? After Grigg had left, Elsie had insisted on an answer, an explanation. She wanted to know what had happened, wasn't satisfied by the simple answers he gave her. For days Charles had tried to avoid a direct confrontation but this was Elsie Hughes. She always got what she wanted in the end.

So he had told her a short version of his shameful past, left out a few bits that were not meant to be repeated in front of a woman. He had felt like a fool, defeated and ridiculed, had expected her to laugh at him or despise him. It would not have come as a surprise had she ended their friendship because of his past.

But nothing of the sort had happened. Quite the opposite in fact, she had taken his hands, promised him that no one would ever learn about this and reassured him that she was not disgusted by what he had told her. He knew then and there that he could trust her unconditionally and that her friendship was the most precious gift he had ever experienced.

"Charles, tell me!" The sharpness in her voice brought him out of his reverie. "There is something going on here and I would like to know what I am dealing with."

He reached for the telegram and pulled the crumpled piece of paper out of his waistcoat pocket where he had hastily stuffed it in earlier.

"Read this."

Elsie smoothed out the paper and read the few words, stared at them, went through them again as if to make sure she had not misread them.

"Charles Grigg?" She asked, looking at him now, worry written all over her face. "I thought he had no dealings with you anymore. After all, his Lordship gave him enough money the last time he threatened you."

Charles took back the telegram, only to toss it into the wastebasket next to her desk.

"Well, obviously it wasn't enough." He rubbed his forehead with his left hand. "I'll meet him later, like he requested, to find out what he wants."

"I'll come with you." Elsie immediately offered.

"No, I can't accept that. I need you to take care of the dinner tonight, please. You shouldn't have to deal with all of this."

She crossed her arms and looked at him sternly, eyes sparkling with determination.

"Thomas can take care of it and you'll not go there on your own. No arguments."


	2. First Meeting

_A/N the long awaited second chapter. SORRY! I moved flats shortly after I uploaded chapter 01 and then I had no time for writing and no inspiration at all. Don't like this chapter very much but you know, writers always say this ;). _

_Enjoy reading._

chapter 02

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It was impossible to reason with Elsie Hughes. All afternoon he tried to make her stay at Downton, assured her that he was perfectly capable of dealing with Charles Grigg on his own. After all, he had spent a few years with only this man as a companion and confidant. Years he never wanted to be reminded of because in the end, Grigg had abused his confidence, had lied to him, stolen, even went to prison as far as Charles was informed. This man was not someone you could simply talk to. Everything he had ever said in this man's presence was turned into lies later, was used against him.

No, Elsie Hughes should not accompany him. Charles knew already how Grigg would talk to her, that he would without doubt humiliate her. Even a strong woman such as Elsie was not safe from the evil charms of this man. But try as he might, at a quarter to seven she stood outside the Grantham Arms with him, determination written all over her face.

"We are early." Charles pointed out. "Perhaps we should wait, take a walk."

"We just walked here. The earlier you face this, the better." Her logical approach might have made sense if a different person was concerned, with Grigg it only meant that Charles would have to talk to him longer, be confronted with his lies for more time than he had planned. And for Elsie, he didn't even want to think about her.

"Shall we go in?" She looked up at him, an encouraging smile on her lips and how would he ever be able to resist those eyes?

Charles opened the door, ducked his head when he stepped into the dimly lit room. Half the tables were occupied by the usual guests of the local pub. Elsie walked in before him, with long, self-confident strides. She was nonetheless greeted by some whistling from a few of the younger lads at a table close to the bar. Charles straightened to his full height immediately, ready to defend her honour but when he stepped closer, Elsie held up her hand to stop him.

"Ignore them." She hissed. "Let us find a table." As if she was a regular guest of the Grantham Arms, Elsie walked over to a free table and simply sat down. The look she shot him, told Charles to do the same, act as normal as possible. He scanned the room for that one familiar face before he took a seat across from Elsie. Grigg was nowhere to be seen.

"Is he here already?" Elsie asked, curious. After all, she had never before seen the man.

"I haven't seen him yet. But it's been ten years, so he might look different." He took off his hat and then noticed that he had not been a gentleman at all, was not much better than the men sitting here over their ales. Elsie was still wearing her coat.

"Let me help you with that." Charles stood and was rewarded with a warm smile on her face.

"Of course." Elsie turned her back towards him and while he took care of the garment, a hand touched his shoulder. That was when Charles met his past again for the first time in ten years.

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"Helping your missus? A gentleman, as always." He extended his hand, took hers unasked and placed a wet kiss on the back of it. Elsie was startled for a moment, then withdrew her hand quickly. Charles had just removed her coat but still stood behind her, speechless, the green woollen coat in his hands.

"This is not the welcome I had expected." Grigg sat down on the chair previously occupied by Charles. "Ey, are you talking to me or not?" A broad grin showed on his unshaven face. Elsie turned to look at Charles and was shocked by what she saw on his face. He was not simply speechless. The anger in his eyes was real. It exceeded everything she had ever seen on this man's face. The nervousness from earlier had completely disappeared and been replaced by fury. His lips formed a thin line, his fists creased the material of her coat where he was gripping it. Charles was ready to strike out, here, inside a crowded pub, in front of half of the village men.

"I didn't know you got married. Congratulations. Wasn't aware that butlers could marry now." Grigg rambled on, unimpressed.

Elsie tore her eyes away from Charles's face, forced herself to take a seat again. "Mr Grigg, I assume? Elsie Hughes. We haven't met."

She didn't offer him her hand again, kept them folded on the table in front of her. From the corner of her eye she observed Charles, hoped that her interference had calmed him a bit, showed him that she would not let this man take control of the situation.

"I'm not his wife. I'm his colleague." Elsie clarified, her voice icy.

The eyes of her opponent opened wide. "I see." There was still the smirk on his face as if he knew better.

"So Charles won't you sit down again? I have a hard time looking up."

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Grudgingly Charles took a seat, this time next to Elsie on the small bench opposite Grigg. For the moment it didn't matter that they sat too close, her hand on his thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. Grigg must have seen this, because the smile broadened even more. Surprisingly, Charles could not care less.

"Colleagues. I see, well we can discuss this later. For now, it is good to see you again." And then he coughed, loud and hard, almost doubled over in the chair, pressing a handkerchief to his mouth.

If this should impress them, Charles had no problems keeping his composure. The man he had once called a friend was a good actor after all. He waited patiently for Grigg to continue talking but when the coughing did not stop, got even worse, Charles almost lost his patience.

"Something is wrong," he heard Elsie whisper next to him.

* * *

TBC


	3. An unexpected turn

_A/N This is only a short chapter but I thought: better update than keep you waiting! _

chapter 03

* * *

The handkerchief was read, dotted with blood, not much but enough to be clearly noticeable to the sharp eye. Quickly, Grigg stuffed it back into the pocket of his outworn grey overcoat.

"Nothing to worry about." His smile faltered, was no longer that self-confident grin and his hands started to fidget with the candle. "So, how's life treated you?" He did not even look up, instead concentrated on the spilled wax on the wooden table.

Charles took a moment to observe his old acquaintance, one he had at one point in his past called a friend when he did not yet know what this term really involved. When he was still young, friends were everywhere, easy to find, easy to forget. Only in later years, the time on the stage long passed, did he realize what it meant to have a real friend in the true sense of the word. A confidant, someone he could trust unconditionally, whose advice he cherished and whose company alone was enough to brighten the most tiring day.

Elsie Hughes still had her hand on his thigh, had not moved it, kept it there to emphasize what she had said earlier _you should not deal with all of this alone. _She was the best friend he ever had, the only true one.

"I'm still butler." What else could he say? He would not tell this man everything that had happened in the last ten years since they last met.

"Good for you. Very good." Grigg still kept his head down. "And not married."

Charles thought they had finished this discussion already. Elsie had been very clear with her remark earlier. "No I told you already."

"She did." And here he pointed at Elsie, stared at her. "She said you weren't married to _her_."

Charles was close to loosing his temper, to do something he would later regret terribly. "Why is this so important? You never cared about what I do and did before. So why now?"

Finally the man left the rest of the candle alone and faced Charles again. "I'm sick. You saw it." Grigg reached for the handkerchief but before he could pull it out again, Elsie stopped him.

"We saw and heard it. And now you remembered your fold friend," Charles noticed the way she pronounced the word, knew that she did not believe that Grigg really was a friend or ever had been, "and thought he would help you."

"Your woman is clever."

Charles's fist hit the table top with an unexpected force. Even some of the regular guests, used to small fights and a noisier environment than the Grantham Arms, turned their heads. "Enough!" He stood again, towering over Grigg, trembling with anger.

"Please Charles." Again it was Elsie who intervened, her hand on his arm, gripping it with that reassuring strength.

"No Elsie. I regret that you had to witness all of this. I wish I could have spared you from this encounter entirely." He did not want to sit down again and listen to this man for a minute longer.

"We are leaving. Have a good day Mr Grigg."

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The walk back to Downton Abbey in the beginning twilight was awkward, the silence between them almost unbearable. He felt guilty, had told her earlier to stay behind, not to worry about his past, not to get involved at all. But she had refused to obey. Charles Carson too often believed he could handle problems on his own, when in reality she was the one who took care of so many things behind this back. He never noticed it and honestly, she did not want him to.

He walked too fast, was always a few steps ahead of her, mumbling something to himself she could not understand. After they had left the last of the village cottages behind, Elsie had enough.

"Charles, for heaven's sake, stop!" She sounded harsher than intended. He was not one of her girls she could scold for their ill manners or badly done work. "You mustn't feel guilty or blame yourself. Not about me. I can handle this Mr Grigg." She tried to console him but the man still walked on, his pace maybe a bit slower now. "He hadn't been nice to me, but believe me, I have dealt with worse." Elsie quickened her step, managed to catch up a bit.

"Fine." He stopped abruptly, turned around and was clearly surprised to find her standing right in front of him. "I'm sorry Elsie. I expected this meeting to be unpleasant, to say the least, but I obviously underestimated the situation completely."

"Don't worry about that anymore. Please." She felt the need to touch him yet again, something so unlike her, but today he needed more than just a few friendly words from her. His hand was so large and strong when she took it to run her thumb across the back of it, letting him know that she was always on his side. "We will not see him again."

Elsie felt how he turned her hand around almost immediately, enclosed her smaller one with his own completely, securely, accepting her offer of friendship and help.

"Thank you for that." The smile he offered her came directly from his heart, from her dear friend Charles, the only true one she ever had and would never disappoint. How little did she know that she would break this promise soon and betray this precious friendship.

* * *

_TBC (I KNOW I have a thing for cliffhanger) Please let me know in a review what you liked and disliked. thank you 3_


	4. A decision

_A/N woohooo! very fast update ;) And I am SO bad when it comes to dialogues. Apologies for those. Enjoy reading. _

Chapter 04**  
**

* * *

"Have you heard from him again?" she looked at him over the rim of her wineglass. They shared the leftover wine from the upstairs dinner like they did on so many evenings. The heady red one they were drinking was a wonderful treat after a long, busy week where they had hardly found a moment to enjoy each other's company.

Charles refilled his glass. "I have neither seen nor heard from him. He surely has left the village again or else we would have met him a second time by now."

"But isn't that a bit strange?" She had thought about their encounter the whole week. A sick man with apparently no one in the world to turn to but an old acquaintance he had once betrayed. Why had he come here, to a place he knew he was not welcome anymore, only to disappear again shortly after? The way Charles described Grigg, this man never gave up quickly, most certainly not when he wanted something from someone. At his last visit Lord Grantham had given Grigg the money he had requested, less than the man had expected but he had achieved his goal in the end nevertheless.

"I don't know." He put the glass aside, then rubbed the bridge of his nose with his hand. "If these were the old days, I'd say yes. But perhaps he has other _friends _he can ask for help now. I can't be the only one." He added the last bit with a deep sigh. "Besides, he needed a doctor, not me, to help him." Charles drank a sip from his wine. "He's a grown man and can look after himself."

He sounded so sure about this, still Elsie knew that even men like Charles Carson weren't always capable of dealing with every problem on their own. "I'm not entirely sure about that." The moment the words were spoken, she regretted them. Charles gave her a look, he usually reserved for Jimmy and Alfred, that angry glare to reprimand them.

"You don't know this man, Elsie. He has insulted you, showed you no respect and you still try to defend him."

"Don't look at me like that! And I'm not defending him at all!" The wineglass was out down a bit too forcefully, and some of the red liquid spilled onto the polished wood of the side table. "Let's not talk about this anymore and enjoy the evening, please."

cccc

She was still angry when she made her way upstairs. A quiet, eagerly anticipated evening in the company of her best friend was ruined by his inability to let things rest. This bad habit, or should she call it a character trait, was one of the few things about him, she could never simply ignore. Of course, Charles Grigg had made no positive lasting impression on her but he was a human being and certainly able to learn from past mistakes. Charles had left his life on stage behind, became a respected member of society and held the highest position a man could have in service.

She had reached the top of the stairs already when the sound of heavy footsteps behind her made her pause for a moment.

"I'm sorry. Please accept my apology." He put his hand on her shoulder, letting his thumb gently stroke her shoulder blade. "I've ruined the evening."

"One could say that." She responded, talking to the wall she was facing.

"It's just that this man has never been honest with me and I can't trust him anymore. No matter how sick he might be."

Elsie turned her head, looked at him, his face half hidden in the darkness, the other half illuminated by the lamp he was carrying. The flickering light softened his features, made him look years younger, like a different person. "I know that and you are not to blame for that or his actions or what he has said to me."

He removed his hand from her shoulder and to her surprise briefly touched her cheek, whispered a thank you into her ear when he passed her on the stairs on the way to his room.

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"Mrs Crawley is here and would like to have a word with you, Mrs Hughes." Anna's head appeared in the half open door to her sitting room.

"Mrs Crawley?" Elsie asked, surprised that the woman had made her way downstairs instead of sending for her.

"Yes, she's waiting for you in the servant's hall." Anna shrugged her shoulders. "She followed me downstairs. I was about to pick up Lady Mary's dresses for tomorrow."

"Go ahead with your work then, Anna. I'll take care of our visitor." Mrs Crawly was a rare sight downstairs, like any other member of the family, but it was not unusual for her to ask for Elsie. Together the had helped Ethel one last time, made sure the girl finally could live a life, close to her son. But that was almost two years ago. Since then, Elsie had had no personal contact with Isobel Crawley.

The older woman sat at the large table, her back to the doorway. Elsie cleared her throat to make her presence known. "Mrs Crawley, how can I help?"

Isobel Crawley turned and smiled at Elsie. She was so different in her demeanour compared to the rest of the family, even after all these years at Downton. There was no superiority noticeable in the way she stood there in front of Elsie. If she did not know better, this woman could simply be a servant from another estate. Where Lady Grantham would simply have send for her and Lady Mary just entered her sitting room unannounced, Mrs Crawley waited for her, like a visitor.

"Mrs Hughes, it's good to see you. I hope I don't interrupt anything of importance?"

"No, not at all. Shall we go to my sitting room? It's more comfortable in there." Elsie led the way and closed the door quickly behind them as soon as Mrs Crawley was inside.

"Would you like to sit down?" she offered.

But Isobel Crawley declined her offer. "There's no need. I just have a few questions."

"Now I'm curious." She studied the woman, the smile on her face, the black dress, still visibly mourning the son she had lost too early, the gloved hands. What was it that she could possibly want from her?

"Two days ago a man came to the clinic and Dr Clarkson examined him. He diagnosed him with tuberculosis." Mrs Crawley explained and Elsie should have stopped here there and then because she already knew the name of the patient. "And before he collapsed, he told Dr Clarkson that he knew you and that he'd need your help."

Elsie tried to hide that her hands were nervously fidgeting with her skirt but she could not avoid biting her bottom lip. It gave her away immediately.

"So you know him? Can you tell me more about this Mr Grigg then?"

"I think it might be better if you sit down Mrs Crawley. The story's a bit longer. Where should she start?

* * *

TBC


	5. Secrets

_A/N Some of you mentioned that the little touches Elsie and Charles share are not in character. I'm aware of that and normally I wouldn't have used them because I always try to stay in character as best as I can (we are all not Juilan Fellowes, so we do not really know what is "in character" anyway ;)). But... it annoys me so much that they are never really touching each other! And Elsie has touched Charles twice in the last series so I let them be closer in this story and a bit more ooc_. _And to make this text even longer: the little newspaper snippet that was on tumblr yesterday made me write a bit faster so please excuse the crappy style of this chapter. (BUT I'M SO EXCITED!)_

Chapter 05

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"You see, Mr Carson does not want anyone to know about his past. His Lordship is aware of it of course, but in all these years we have kept it a secret. It's Mr Carson's story to tell and it would surely undermine his position amongst the staff if they all knew." Elsie concluded the first part of her explanation.

Mrs Crawley had listened attentively but had so far not interrupted her. "A week ago we, that is Mr Carson and myself, met Mr Grigg at the Grantham Arms and he asked for our help."

"Well then, why did he come to the hospital and didn't inform us right away that he is acquainted with Mr Carson?" Isobel Crawley raised her eyebrows, a questioning look on her face.

Elsie sighed, she could not explain the why, not in a way Mrs Crawley would understand. "You see, Mr Carson left the Grantham Arms in a hurry, without promising to help Mr Grigg."

The woman across from her seemed to understand what Elsie had tried to imply in her shortened version of last week's encounter. "I haven't talked to the man more than two or three sentences so I can't really say that I know him, or his intentions. But I've known Mr Carson for a while now and he never seemed to me like a person who held a grudge towards other people."

Again, Elsie could not supress a sigh. Isobel Crawley had always been very open-minded, never been shocked or disgusted by other people's behaviour or living conditions. She had offered Ethel a position in her house without second thought although her good will had caused more problems than solving the already existing ones. Of course she would judge Mr Grigg by what she had so far seen of him, who wouldn't? Charles had warned Elsie of the man's charm, the way he would try to get on her good side. And although she considered herself as a person with a good knowledge of the human nature, she could not ignore the effect Grigg had on her. There was also no way of denying that she had worried a bit about the man since that meeting at the Grantham Arms. And she sat here, together with Isobel Crawley, discussing the fate of a stranger.

"I don't know the whole story but enough of it to understand why Mr Carson did not trust Mr Grigg and therefore refused to offer his help." Why the man had now explicitly asked for her help she still needed to find out and hoped, Isobel Crawley could give her an answer, "But why has he asked for me?"

Mrs Crawley shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. As far as I remember he mentioned to be a friend of Mr Carson's and then he said he would like to see you and needed your help. I'm sorry Mrs Hughes, there is nothing more to tell."

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Dr Clarkson had done some research, on new treatments and medication, made sure to ask several colleagues in London for help. Even inquired if it was possible to transfer the patient to one of the hospitals there for further tests and treatment. Tuberculosis was a serious and dangerous disease and he had dealt with cases before, knew that the illness spread easily, was highly contagious.

He had given Mr Grigg a private room where he could get the best rest. The nurses were told to wear surgical masks when they took care of the man who was still sleeping, for almost 24 hours now. When he was admitted into the small country hospital two days ago, Dr Clarkson had noticed how weak the man was but never thought he would take a turn to the worse so soon.

The door of his office opened and a nurse entered, carrying a pile of letters and a grey telegram envelope. "London Hospital sent an answer, doctor." She informed him.

Eagerly, Richard read the unusually long telegram, delighted at the news it contained. Apparently there was a vaccine available, new and so far only used in French hospitals, but small portions of the new medicine were accessible in London too. He could offer Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes some help them. He reached for the telephone on his desk to call London, when the door opened a second time. Isobel Crawley stepped into the room, followed by Mrs Hughes.

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"I assure you that he has not said anything else. He is resting now but you can go in and talk to him as long as he's awake. He's been sleeping for the last 24 hours." Dr Clarkson told her with this kind smile on his lips that usually took away all of his patient's worries, or at least made them bearable. Except this time it did not work. "He was weak, hadn't you noticed his condition when you saw him?"

"No." Elsie looked down at her hands, nervously clutching her small handbag. She already felt guilty for accompanying Mrs Crawley, for coming here without letting Charles know. Now Dr Clarkson's observation was like an accusation, something she should have seen and taken care of instead of running away from it. "He coughed blood but otherwise Mr Grigg looked fine to me."

"Don't worry Mrs Hughes. I had no intention of accusing you of anything." The doctor reached out and took one of her hands. It calmed her, a bit at least, but did not dispel her worries.

"Better see the patient now." She withdrew her hand, tried her best to sound optimistic although she knew that her decision to come here would have consequences, would harm the friendship that meant the world to her.

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"Have you seen Mrs Hughes Anna?" She was not in her sitting room, had reportedly not gone upstairs for her weekly meeting with her Ladyship and even Mrs Patmore had not seen the housekeeper for a while now. Nothing about her absence was unusual. Elsie could be somewhere in this huge house, making sure the cleaning of the guest bedrooms met her high standards. Some of the younger housemaids they had taken on recently still were not up to their tasks. She had discussed this with him the other night. Charles tried not to get lost in the memories of that talk. There was not reason for him to worry about her whereabouts but he had this odd feeling that something was amiss.

"I saw her leave for the village together with Mrs Crawley earlier." Anna shifted the dress that hung over her arm to the other side. "But that was two hours ago. She might be back already. Excuse me, Mr Carson, but Lady Mary's waiting for me."

"Of course." He replied absentmindedly, processing the information he had been given. Elsie had worked with Mrs Crawley before; there was still nothing out of the ordinary happening. Perhaps the woman had asked for advice in her search for a new housekeeper, but Charles was not convinced by this thought at all. Something was going on he should be aware of.

He decided to go back to work for now and spent the next minutes trying to compose the menus for the next week. His pen scraped over the paper, wrote down possible choices for the main dish, crossed them out again, tried again, blotted the page. Two pages ended up in the waste basket next to his desk before Charles finally was able to focus on what he was writing, his thoughts no longer occupied with Elsie's disappearance. He dried the ink and decided to copy the list for Mrs Hughes, provide her with the necessary information she needed to stock the store cupboard when he heard voices outside on the corridor.

Elsie, Mrs Patmore, the backdoor closing, her sitting room door opening. He could not understand what was being said, the wall between the two rooms was too solid but he would find out about the reason for that meeting with Mrs Crawley, had to know what plans the two women had come up with regarding new staff for Crawley House. Charles desperately hoped his assumption was right. Grigg could not be involved, not this time. He wanted this man out of his life, forever.

* * *

TBC

(and this is a fanfic of course, but it will happen in series 4! HOW is the big question ;))


	6. Friendship

_A/N sorry for the delay but SUMMER is here and I am enjoying every bit of it and am outdoors a lot :). Also: the dialogue was sooo difficult to write. Glad it's done, enjoy reading and please let me know what you think - reviews more than welcome!_

Chapter 06

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She was still shaken. The nervous feeling that had plagued her all day refused to subside. It intensified after her visit to the hospital and increased to an almost unbearable nauseous pain in her lower stomach by the time she returned to Downton Abbey. When people said that the guilt was eating them they probably referred to what she was feeling right now.

Luckily Beryl was there the minute she stepped through the door, asking questions, inquiringly. Where she had been, what had happened, why had Mrs Crawley paid a visit? Elsie tried to answer them without giving too much away, lied when it came to the real reason for Mrs Crawley's visit. A private matter that required her help and advice. She could not convince the cook. Beryl could read her like an open book at times, but her answers satisfied her for the time being. And it felt good to know that at least she could count on Beryl Patmore. She would be there in case Charles broke with her but for now Beryl left her sitting room with a promise to return later for a longer talk. Elsie was close to refuse this offer but knew it would make things look even more suspicious.

She started at the closed door, wanted it to stay shut for the rest of the day, for the world outside to leave her alone for a while. Slowly she unpinned her hat, hung it along with her coat on the hooks behind the door. Her shawl followed along with her gloves. Elsie felt better in only her work dress, her uniform and armour that clearly identified her as a woman working in service. She could pretend, for at least until tonight, that this was her only role, that there were not other responsibilities outside the walls of Downton Abbey. Elsie checked her appearance in the mirror, looked for any signs that would give her away, show her guilt. But the face that stared back at her was normal, stern, tired maybe, without any sign of her betrayal.

"You can do this." She assured herself, although she knew it would be the most difficult task ever. Not telling him what happened in the afternoon was an ordeal but should she be forced to lie to him, Elsie knew it would tear her apart.

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She avoided him for the rest of the day in the best possible way. Not talking to him at all was immensely difficult and the further the day progressed it proved impossible. At some point they had to discuss the coming day, organize the tasks that needed to be taken care of.

During dinner she felt his gaze on her, probing, worried. Accidentally, or at least Elsie believed it had not been on purpose, his knee touched hers, followed by a whispered "Are you feeling alright, Elsie?"

She nodded, took a spoonful of the stew Mrs Patmore had prepared, chewed and instead of answering his question with words, offered him a small smile. Elsie knew that this was not enough to reassure Charles Carson. Still, she could not tell him the true reason for her dismissive behaviour. Not yet. Only when the majority of the staff was sent upstairs to bed, while Anna and Mr Bates, Thomas and Mrs Patmore still sat at the large oak table in the servant's hall over a cup of tea, did Elsie find the courage to approach him.

A light touch on his shoulder, a question asked with her eyes only and a short nod of her head in the direction of her sitting room was enough to make him understand that the awkward silsnce between them would soon be over.

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"If you'll excuse me. Mr Barrow, I remind you of the early wine delivery tomorrow. Best make it an early night. Mr Bates, Anna." He deliberately ignored Beryl Patmore. She knew, she was there when Elsie returned. And neither of them had talked to him all day. Charles had given up the hope that Mrs Crawley had asked for help in the search for new staff. And the impact of this realization shocked and worried him alike.

He followed Elsie into her sitting room, far enough away from prying ears, private enough to discuss a topic he did not want to address again: his shameful past.

She closed the door behind them when he was just inside the room, hurriedly, as if she feared to be overheard. "We haven't talked all day."

"I know." She still did not face him, had her back turned to him but he knew that she was wringing her hands, could see the nervousness in the way she had drawn back her shoulders, kept her back straight.

"You've been to the village earlier?" He made it sound like a question, an innocent inquiry about her working day.

"Yes I have", she answered. "And I need to talk to you about the person I've met there." Finally she had the courage to face him, hands, as expected, folded and pressed together so tightly, that the knuckles turned white.

"I think I know who you are talking about Elsie." Charles was tempted to take her hands in his, to ease her nervousness. But the fact that she went to see Grigg behind his back hurt him more than he had admitted to himself earlier. She was his best friend, his confidant, the only person whom he allowed to see behind his mask. And she also knew that it would upset him when she met Charles Grigg again on her own. Had he not told her to leave that man alone, not care about his problems?

"But what I do not understand is: Why did you agree to see him? After all the things he said when we met him?" He took one tentative step towards her.

"What exactly did he say Charles? He asked if I am your wife, assumed you had been lucky and found someone to spend the rest of your life with." Her hands were still busy, fumbling with the keychains now. "The way he said it was more insulting that the actual words."

"Elsie, he assumed that you were nothing more than my wife, a simple woman with no occupation and status. I can't have people believe that!" It was a silly argument, one that made more sense in his head.

"You thought that. He didn't." She let go of her keys and crossed her arms. "Don't you wonder why he asked for my help, and not yours? Shall I tell you why?"

He had offended her. Her posture spoke volumes although there was still some uneasiness left in the way she spoke. Her voice lacked the fierceness he associated with an angry Elsie Hughes. There was still a chance he could calm her, avoid an "atmosphere".

Elsie continued. "Because despite the fact that we met him together, he realized that I am an independent woman who speaks her own mind."

Charles shook his head in disbelief. "So in the end he managed to convince you. Elsie, don't you see that all this man ever does and did only serves one purpose? He is the most selfish person I've ever known." While he spoke he had closed the distance between them and put his hand on her shoulder, could feel how tense she was. Gently he let thumb stroke her collarbone.

"I know all of this Charles, I know. And believe me, I didn't want to go when Mrs Crawley asked me to." Underneath his hand, her shoulder relaxed a bit. She lowered her head, exhaled, took a deep breath. "But he is a human being, just like you and me and he deserves that we listen to him and try to understand his motives."

"You should have let me know."

"You would've told me not to go." Elsie still stared at her feet.

"And you would've gone anyway." Charles teased her, tried to lighten the mood, because he understood now why she had not talked to him, why she was not her quick-tempered self in this discussion. He was unsuccessful.

"I betrayed our friendship." She moved her head, looked him in the eye, nervousness replaced by guilt. "This is inexcusable. But I could not simply ignore his request."

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For the next few minutes they stood in the middle of her sitting room without exchanging another word. His hand on her shoulder felt good, like an unspoken _I forgive you _only understood between friends.

Elsie was tempted to rest her head on his chest, to seek comfort there. But they were already standing too close together, had shared too many similar moments in the last days. Reluctantly she took a step backwards, ended this rather intimate moment. Charles looked a bit lost for a moment, obviously afraid she would ask him to leave. "I've been on my feet all day. Perhaps we should sit down." With the smile Elsie offered him, he would hopefully understand that she only needed a bit of rest. After all, they both had a most trying day.

"Of course", he murmured in response, followed her over to the small table by the door and waited until she took a seat before he joined her.

"Would you like to know what he requested? Why he asked for help?" Elsie studied his face, searched for an answer to her question before he could voice it. She knew that he tried to forget his past, ignore the fact that only two miles away a man, he once regarded as his friend, was lying in a hospital bed suffering from tuberculosis. Still, the Charles Carson she knew was not cold-hearted. But his face was blank. His eyes focused on something behind her back. Charles seemed miles away.

"I will visit him again tomorrow and let him know my decision. We could walk together." Another offer for him to make peace with Charles Grigg.

Slowly he moved his head and gazed at her as if her question had caught him off guard. "No. Please. I cannot do this, Elsie." He closed his eyes, apparently concentrating on his next words. "I apologize for not trusting you and assuming you would scheme things behind my back."

Elsie released a breath she was not aware she had been holding and reached out to take his hand. "It's alright Charles. We both made mistakes."

"And your decision?" His larger hand covered hers now, their fingers almost intertwined.

"I will try to help him but he cannot expect me to lie for him, or scheme, as you put it. Dr Clarkson and Mrs Crawley will probably take care of him and see that he recovers. My part in all of this will be small because he might be a man who needs our help but there is someone else whose friendship I value too much to risk it over a sick man I hardly know."

* * *

TBC

_Is it friendship only? Will it turn into something more? And what exactly did Grigg want from Elsie? _


	7. Past mistakes

_A/N Sorry for the delay but I had absolutely no idea how to write this bit :). Thank you for your reviews so far. They help me with the story, the encourage me to continue writing. Enjoy the next chapter and please let me know what you think! Series 4 begins in 6 weeks. By then I hope I've finished this story._

**Chapter 07**

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Late during the night he woke up, plagued by thoughts, and the words she had spoken: the friend she valued so much, Grigg assuming Elsie was the love of Charles' life, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his days with. Her hand in his, his hand in hers, the closeness between them.

Charles wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead, could feel his pulse quicken when his brain connected the many signs, he had previously ignored or unintentionally misinterpreted as friendly touches and words, to something coherent.

They were friends, colleagues, two people who shared the responsibility of running a large household, for more than twenty odd years. Work had always defined them, it was the main thing they shared. Their care for the house, the Crawleys, the smooth handling of the myriad tasks that the management of a large estate involved, bound them. Never had it occurred to him that their roles as butler and housekeeper served only as a shell, a cover draped around their real personalities. The special connection and understand that had developed between them over the years went deeper than their simple working relationship, the thing he had called friendship was so much more. Charles sat up in his bed, rested his head against the headboard and stared at the opposite wall.

He had experience love only once, a lifetime ago, had forgotten how it felt, what the signs were. But he was sure that he had read them correctly this time. What upset him about his discovery were the circumstances that had led him to it. Grigg, of all people. Charles sighed. Helping that man was inevitable now. His conscience would never forgive him if he did not.

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Elsie was on her way to the hospital. She had delegated some of her workload to the most trustworthy housemaids but still felt uneasy about leaving the house yet again on a private matter.

"Mrs Hughes!" His voice behind her startled her. She had told him where she was going this time, had not kept it a secret, assumed he would not be interested in coming with him or interfere at the last minute. After all, he had expressed his dislike for Charles Grigg once again last night and she respected his decision to stay away from this man as best as he could. Although it made everything even more difficult, most of all their friendship.

"Yes Mr Carson? I'm on my way to the hospital. I'll be back in time for luncheon."

He carried his coat and hat in one hand. "I'll come with you."

To say she was not surprised by his change of mind would have been a lie. Elsie stared at him, the coat, the hat, pointed at the items, then at the door. "You are coming with me? Are you sure?"

He answered her question by putting on his bowler. "I am."

She wanted to ask why, liked to have an explanation right away but Charles took hold of her arm and pushed her out of the house through the back door.

"You can tell me on the way what it is he needs your help with and what you are planning to do." He was unstoppable, full of energy all of a sudden and walked with a purpose unknown to her.

"Why? What has changed your mind?" The question was a whispered one, more to herself than really addressing him. He was walking ahead of her now, with long, fast strides, so unlike him.

"What you said last night." His answer was unexpected. Charles stopped and when she caught up, waiting next to him, staring up into his smiling face, he took her hand in his.

Elsie hesitantly let her fingers grasp his hand completely, glove touching glove, but this barrier did not matter. This small gesture was more intimate than anything they had thus far done. And is surprised her that the man next to her had initiated it. "What did I say?" Her voice sounded hoarse. Something about friendship, the most precious one she ever had experienced, a comment on Grigg's behaviour, the perfect partner, wife, someone to spend the rest of your life with. Elsie remembered their conversation clearly but never thought Charles would grasp the exact meaning of her words. After all, she had tried for years to show him how much she cared, what his friendship meant to her, and that she was willing to be more than just friends.

"Something that made me change my mind, Elsie." He squeezed her hand affectionately.

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Charles Grigg was awake, lying in his bed, back propped against the headboard, writing a letter, when a nurse opened the curtains that separated the bed from the others in the ward.

"Mrs Hughes!" he hastily put away pen and paper. "It's so nice to see you."

Elsie put on a smile, then withdrew the white curtain further to reveal Charles Carson.

"Oh, Charlie. I didn't expect to see you here, well. Welcome."

Silence. A fake smile on Grigg's lips, hands trying to hide the piece of paper that he had put on the table next to the bed. "So you know it then."

Next to her, Charles nodded, hands behind his back, the stern butler posture she knew so well.

"Tuberculosis. The doctor says it's rather bad. I need to get away for a while. Sanatorium. But London first."

Elsie observed the interaction closely: Charles's cold and distant face, Grigg's nervousness, until she could not longer stand to be a witness of such an awkward moment. "Dr Clarkson has called a few colleagues. They will try to help Mr Grigg. Also there is a vaccine available the Doctor would like to give to us."

Charles did not move or acknowledge what she had said. "But why did he come to us? Why not travel to London directly?" He was not talking to his old friend, only kept staring at him.

"That's what I wanted to tell you last night." She turned around, in a hope to get Charles's full attention for a while and some privacy. On her way here she had not found the courage to tell him the truth, had been afraid to ruin the relaxed atmosphere between them, their newly discovered closeness.

A voice behind her spoke: "Do you remember Beth?" Elsie cursed the impatience of Charles Grigg, his drive to be the centre of attention. Now Charles would hear the story from Grigg, most likely in a different version.

Slowly Charles turned to face his old friend. "Beth? The woman who fell in love with you and who you ignored until she disappeared one night?" His voice was cold and full with hate. Elsie was unsure how to react. Her hand grabbed Charles's arm.

"No Elsie, I can deal with this on my own," he hissed and shook her off. "You know how worried I was about her. But you said she didn't matter. So yes, I remember Beth."

Beth, Grigg had not mentioned the name, only spoke of a woman he had known and loved. Elsie felt strangely related to her right now, they were both loved and forgotten, sharing the same name albeit shortened in a different way.

"I found her." The men glared at each other, one face full with anger, the other sorrowful. "A year after you left." Finally Grigg had Charles attention and began to tell his story.

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The woman was a regular visitor of their show, always seated in the front row, smiling, applauding, cheering, flirting with Grigg. She was good looking, dark brown hair, lively brown eyes and taller than most women. In fact, she towered a few inches over Grigg but it did not seem to bother her much.

Charles and Grigg had often been sought after by prostitutes, men of the stage were a good and interesting catch. Sometimes they enjoyed their service, Grigg more often than Charles but that did not mean he was immune to their flirting.

Beth however was different. She was a normal woman, daughter of a local shopkeeper, intelligent, educated. Still, she fell in love with Grigg who did not pay her the attention she so desperately wanted and deserved. "I can have any woman, why should I choose her, and only her?" he used to say. But then he flirted right back, send Beth flowers, blew her kisses from the stage only to enjoy the service of a prostitute later when the show was over. "They ask no questions."

One night Beth did not occupy one of the front row seats. After a week of not having seen her, Charles started to worry, walked past her fathers house, even inquired after her. But Beth had disappeared. Her parents had no clue why and where she had gone. The police started to investigate and Grigg was questioned too. Without success. Beth had vanished without a trace and the Cheerful Charlies moved on.

What Charles did not know was the secret Grigg and Beth shared, the one night they had been together. A drunken Grigg, a woman in his room, laughter, joyful cries. Charles had not paid attention who passed him on the floor that very night, only saw a tall brown- haired lady leaving his friend's room after she had satisfied Grigg's needs.

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"I have a son but I only saw him twice. As a babe, that year, and later, shortly before the war."

The shocked face that looked at her and then back at Grigg spoke volumes. Elsie felt the guilt emerge again from deep inside her. She should have told him last night, everything and more.

"You have a son?" He slumped down into a chair that stood next to the bed.

"And I needed your help to find him. You know Beth, you know our story and Mrs Hughes was so kind and promised to think about helping me." He faced her and Elsie swallowed hard, unsure what to say. She wanted to help but now that she saw how much it affected Charles she was not so sure about her decision any more.

* * *

**TBC**


	8. Changes

_A/N It's difficult for me to update this on a regular basis. Sometimes I need a break from writing in a different language because my head bursts. But I promise to have this story wrapped up when series 4 begins in 4 weeks._

* * *

**Chapter 08**

**Changes**

"You should have told me, Elsie." He paced the room, unable to stop, afraid to face her and have this conversation eye to eye.

"So that you could stop me right away? Is that why, Charles?" A quick glance at her showed him that she was still sitting in the armchair, hands folded in her lap. Her voice might have sounded calm to an outsider but to him the underlying anger was more than evident.

"We could have discussed it and come to a conclusion together." Charles knew this was a desperate lie.

"I don't think so. You would not even know about it because you fear Grigg and your past so much. After all these years Charles, why are you so afraid? We all made mistakes once or twice in our lives." Her hand touched his, carefully as if afraid she could hurt him. "I know it wasn't right to keep all of this a secret, and I feel terrible about it now. But Charles, he was your friend once."

He let his fingers brush her palm. "I know." Elsie was right, the past was the past, a time long gone and forgotten. Many of the people he had been friends with during his days on the stage were either dead of did not care for him enough to keep in contact. There was only Grigg left. And what harm could he do? Lord Grantham was already aware of his shameful past and had not judged him. The old Lord Grantham took him on as footman without asking about his previous employments. Charles's father, head groom at the time, was enough of a reference to open the doors for a new career in service for him.

No one had ever made fun of him because he could juggle and keep the servants entertained with a few magic tricks and card games. Only he himself felt that the few years he had spent on the road should never be exposed, kept forever hidden, a secret he wanted to take with him into the grave. Charles had worked hard for his new life, and built a new reputation as the loyal, faultless servant. Always obedient and his actions never questioned.

"For Beth, I'll do it for her. Not for him." Finally he turned around to face her. "The rest is up to Dr Clarkson."

She took the back of his hand and brushed it across her cheek. "Thank you for giving him this last chance.

ccc

He had not lied to her, but somehow Charles felt guilty nevertheless. He wanted to find this young man and Beth, apologize to her, and make up for at least this one mistake. However, he also needed to help Grigg because of Elsie, his Beth, the woman who always trusted him despite of his shameful past. The woman he loved, more than just a dear friend, but as a companion, someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Just like Grigg had said.

She did not know about all of this, was unaware of his inner turmoil when they stood in front of the post office the next day. A short text, written in Elsie's fine hand, was handed over the counter and the postmaster transformed it into dots and dashes to be send through the wires all the way to Oxford. The address was ten years old, the chances that Beth still loved there were slim. But what other possibility did they have? Where else to start?

Elsie paid for the service and together they left the small post office and made their way over to the hospital.

"Ah, Mr Carson, Mrs Hughes! It is good to see you both. If you have a minute? I'd like to talk to you about Mr Grigg's further treatment." Dr Clarkson almost ran into them when Charles opened the door to the main hall. The doctor seemed to be bursting with impatience and hurried them along the floor to his office before either of them could answer the initial question.

"Sorry to trouble you and please excuse my impatience but the vaccine has arrived from London and the sooner I can give it to you, the better. There were also news from the London Hospital. They have a bed for Mr Grigg and the can get further treatment there." Clarkson beamed at them, a proud smile on his face.

Charles felt a bit overwhelmed by all the new information. When his only purpose for the visit today had been to inform Grigg about the telegram. After that he had planned on continuing his day with his normal routine. It always kept his mind busy and he had hoped to ban the thoughts of Elsie and Beth from it until there was a moment of solitude in the evening.

The silence in the room became palpable quickly, with Clarkson expecting an answer and Elsie waiting for him to speak. But Charles was not ready for this.

"Mr Carson?" both, Dr Clarkson and Elsie spoke at the same time. "Why don't you sit down?" The doctor offered and Charles saw Elsie take a seat in front of the large wooden desk, while he remained standing in the middle of the room.

"We were only here to speak briefly with Mr Grigg. "He was finally able to say.

"Oh, I thought so. I didn't want to confuse you or force you into doing something." Clarkson paused, and both men stared at each other for a moment before the doctor continued. "Maybe you should do what you came here for and I talk with Mrs Hughes about the other things?"

Charles nodded. The sooner he was out of the hospital and the uncomfortable situation, the better. Elsie was more practical than him. She would ask the right questions, not get sentimental and most of all, keep also his interests in mind.

ccc

For a change, Griggs ta in the garden adjacent to the general ward when Charles entered. A nurse brought him outside and offered a chair which Charles declined. Sitting down would lead to a longer stay than he had planned.

"Charlie. What a pleasure to see you again so soon." Grigg was covered with a thick woollen blanket and on the table next to him stood a carafe with water. "They are good to me here."

Charles took in the details. No one in the hospital knew about this man's past. They treated him they way they would treat any other patient: with respect and care. Charles wished he could be as unprejudiced as the nurses but it seemed impossible. Maybe one day he could forgive and completely forget.

"We send a telegram to Beth." Emotionless words, the same tone he used when informing his Lordship of the arrival of the morning paper. "Mrs Hughes shortly described your situation and your request. We should receive and answer within the next days. If the address is still correct."

To his surprise, Grigg reached out for Charles's hand and squeezed it amicably. "Thank you. For everything."

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Work helped him to forget about the day's events. A new wine delivery, the arrival of a new set of liveries, the planning of a big dinner next week. He had scarcely time to let his mind wander. The only time he was distracted was during dinner when Elsie's leg rested next to his own. The closeness was comforting but also reminded him of all the small touches they had recently started to share. He wanted more, embrace her, bury his nose in her hair, feel her body close to his, show her how much she meant to him, that she had changed his life more than once. And was about to change it again, alter a very significant part in it. He let his thoughts roam for a while until dessert was served and Elsie moved her leg. Their brief moment of unnoticed closeness was gone and Charles concentrated on his food again, banishing the images he had conjured up.

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It was late at night again when Charles could finally make his rounds to lock all doors. Starting with the impressive main door in the large hall. During the day this place was always busy as family and servants scurried across and alongside the centre of the Abbey. But now at night it was dark and deserted. Charles loved the quietness, the sleeping house, the distant ticking of clocks. When the house had come to rest, he could shed his stern self, exchange it for a more relaxed one. His footsteps became lighter and the responsibilities less. Had it not been for Grigg and the talk that awaited him in her sitting room, Charles would have hummed a little tune on his way downstairs.

The last door o lock was always the back door and after that he finished his rounds at the door to her room. Alone at last, time to face what he had pushed away in the morning and throughout the day.

"Mrs Hughes?" He knocked out of habit, and opened the door before she could answer it. "Elsie?"

She sat at her small desk, writing, obviously still working. "We can discuss things in the morning if you're still busy." Perhaps it was indeed better to sleep over it, have the night to think about the last few days.

"Oh Charles, excuse me. I'm only writing an order list and this," she closed her fountain pen. "was the last item on the list."

She smiled up at him and although his day had been rough, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards too. Charles felt strangely at ease in her company today. "We still need to talk about Grigg, I'm afraid." He took a seat at the small table. "Has Dr Clarkson told you what to do?"

"Indeed he has. But it's nothing to worry about. He'll stay here at the Downton hospital for another week and will then be on a train to London." Elsie made her way over to the table but remained standing and put her hands on his shoulders. "You worry too much Charles." The muscles in his neck were stiff and in fact hurt a little. "Don't let Grigg take over your life again. We help him as best as we can and you'll see as soon as he's gone, your life will go back to normal." She began massaging his neck and shoulders.

Charles tensed up under her gentle touch. This came unexpected and for a split second he was not sure whether he should allow this or not. But he quickly relaxed when she did not seem to care or notice his uneasiness. It was only the two of them and they did nothing that could be considered as inappropriate. "I don't want it to go back to normal," he murmured, eyes closed, not aware that he had said this out loud. Elsie's hands stopped their ministrations.

"You don't? What do you mean?"

Charles jerked his head around, shocked that Elsie had heard what he believed was just a thought. "Nothing. Nothing in particular."

She stared at him inquiringly now. "You love your traditions, your rules, your daily routine and here you tell me that you are willing to accept a change in your life, only to deny it right away?" The smirk on her face told him that the anger in her voice was not real.

"Charles?" Elsie walked around the table and sat opposite him. He needed to find a good explanation now, could impossibly tell her what he had realized the other day. He was not ready for a confession, especially not in this situation. They were having their regular evening talk after a long working day. He could not ruin this now.

"There are a few things I'd miss in my _normal _life, Elsie. And I've realized I have to change in order to have them."


	9. Unexpected turns

**A/N This story will be the death of me :). Updating is extremely difficult at the moment because I am stuck a bit. Hope you still like it anyway**

**chapter 09**

**Unexpected turns**

* * *

"What kind of things?" She held her breath. Was he missing what she had wanted for so long? Was he going to say something about them? Charles never wore his heart on his sleeve. The few times he had talked about his feelings, Elsie could count on the fingers of one hand. And when he did so it was always about the family upstairs, using little allegories she had to decipher in order to understand the true meaning hidden behind them. Whenever he wanted to let her know how he felt he expressed his emotions through touches, allowed her hand on his arm, a small pat on the small of her back and fleeting touches on the back of a hand or cheek. These were never misinterpreted such as words. But they lacked so much. Elsie wanted to hear him say it, tell her how he felt in his lovely, calm and warm voice, with his own words.

She could have taken the first step years ago, could have told him why she had not accepted Joe Burns' proposal. But the fear of running their friendship, of losing the man most dear to her, had stopped her more than once, if she was honest with herself.

"This." He took her hands, brought them to his lips and graced them with a gentle kiss. Elsie stared at him. Her breathing quickened and she felt how his hands trembled a bit. "And this."

He got up from his chair, walked around to where she sat, helped her stand and cupped her face in his hands. "Elsie, I think I'm in love."

She could not speak, was overwhelmed by his words. Her throat was suddenly very dry and she almost had to laugh. What was happening reminded her of all the bad novels she had read throughout her life. All these exaggerated emotional outbursts the main characters went through. Elsie had thought they were all a farce, until now. She swallowed a few times, hoped it would not ruin the moment she had waited for so for so many years. She wanted to give him an answer, confess that the feeling was mutual. His eyes patiently studied her face, thumbs caressed her cheeks. Time stood still.

When Elsie moved closer, stood up on tiptoes to be the same height, touched his face with her hand, she knew what the right answer was, the one he would not misunderstand. Tentatively she let her lips brush over his in a fleeting kiss, then looked up for a second to make sure she had made the right decision.

But there was no need to worry. What they had ignored for years had supressed for so long finally surfaced and resulted in the most wonderful first kiss Elsie had ever shared.

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"There's a telegram for you Mr Carson." Alfred knocked briefly on the doorpost to get the butler's attention. Charles had been staring at the same page of the wine ledger for an indefinite time, trying to sort his thoughts.

"Mr Carson? Is everything alright?" Alfred entered the room and placed the grey piece of paper he was holding on the large desk in front of the butler. Only then did Charles notice the footman who awkwardly had his hands folded behind his back, waiting for further instructions. Alfred took a step backwards when Charles looked up, then straightened his back, drew his shoulders back.

He is trying to hard, he thought, to make a good impression, to avoid any mistakes, yet he will never know what it means to dedicate your life to a life in service. Alfred is a different generation, one that was given more and new chances. He can leave and find a new employment, have a family. He took the telegram. "Thank you Alfred. You may go now. "And the young man left him alone with his thoughts again.

A sweetheart, a family, a woman he'll spend the rest of his life with. Not like me, who had been a fool in his younger years and then paid the price for his misbelief that he could lead a better life outside service. So much time wasted to make good what he had destroyed. So many years of following the rules, of never allowing himself to feel and follow his heart. Until last night.

His train of thoughts was immediately disrupted when he read the short message on the telegram. "Would like to see Charlie. Will be on Thursday morning train. Together with Sam. Beth."

ccc

"Mrs Hughes!" He was shouting her name. He never did that, not in this tone. Alarmed, she let her pen drop, almost ran out of her sitting room towards his door, only to find him smiling broadly, waving a telegram.

"I thought something has happened to you! Never frighten me again like that, Charles Carson!" She glared at him, arms crossed, but he ignored her stern demeanour.

"Read this." He handed her the telegram.

Elsie read and re-read the short message unbelievingly. "That's good news. I didn't expect a positive answer so soon." Most of all she had not expected Charles to be so excited about it. "What happen to your reluctance to help Mr Grigg?"

"It does not matter anymore." With a few quick strides he was at the door to close it for a bit of privacy during the busy morning routine downstairs.

"May I ask what has changed your mind?" She was teasing him now, unable to hide her smile at his very uncharacteristic behaviour.

"Wasted chances."

Elsie thought of last night, the kisses they had shared, the way the few words they had spoken had changed him, made him shed the stern and aloof butler façade he kept hiding behind almost 24 hours on all days. In her presence he was now only Charles Carson. A man who did no longer shy away from showing his affections.

He bent down to kiss her properly and Elsie was again overwhelmed by the still unfamiliar closeness, the touch of his hands on her back, and the wonderful feeling of having arrived at a point in life she had unconsciously sought after for a very long time.

ccc

Their walk to the hospital, a daily routine by now, was different this time. She was not afraid to take his hand, he did not let go of it when the first houses and the main street came in sight. Instead of keeping a respectable distance, Elsie almost, purposely, leant again his side. She was certain he would not push her away, deny what they were now, that their relationship had changed. And Charles surprised her by not only showing his affection openly whilst walking thought the village but he continued holding her hand inside the hospital as well. Years of abiding to a strict set of necessary rules were forgotten over night.

Dr Clarkson noticed at once that something was different when Elsie entered the examination room and office with Charles behind her.

"Mrs Hughes, Mr Carson. You are daily visitors by now. I'm glad you've changed your mind about Mr Grigg." There was a friendly expression on his face bus he could not hide the hint of suspicion. "Or is something else the matter?"

Charles removed the hand from the small of her back and stepped forward. "Nothing to worry about, doctor. But we received this telegram."

ccc

"It would be advisable to arrange a meeting outside the hospital. And we can impossibly invite Grigg to Downton", Charles pointed out during the brief conversation they had started over the telegram.

"Has Mr Grigg recovered enough to leave the hospital already?" As much as Elsie agreed to a meeting outside these very walls, they should not forget about Grigg's state of health.

Dr Clarkson opened a file that lay on top of a larger pile of unfinished paperwork on his desk. He studied it for a moment. "The last few days did him good. He is stable, had regular meals, medication and rest. I'd say it's no problem for him to meet with his son." He looked at Elsie, then at Charles. "It is advisable that both receive the vaccination first. I would not risk two more lives. Although we can't yet be sure if the treatment helps. But I'd rather give it a try."

A knock on the door interrupted their discussion. It was opened before Dr Clarkson could invite in whoever was standing outside.

"I hope I didn't come at an inconvenient moment?" Isobel Crawley, smiling though still dressed in full mourning, appeared in the doorway. "Mrs Hughes, Mr Carson. It's good to see you again. Are you here for Mr Grigg?"

ccc

"I'll have it arranged that a taxi cab picks up Beth and her son from the station." Isobel Crawley stood, ready to leave the doctor's office. "Then we can meet directly at my house without having to explain things much beforehand."

"Thank you Mrs Crawley, that's very kind." Elsie had not dared to ask for Isobel Crawley's help, neither had Charles. After all, she did not know Grigg at all. For her, he was only a patient whose old acquaintance happened to be Charles Carson.

"Nonsense! I'm glad I can help. Will you be there too?" She looked at Charles.

"No Ma'am. I won't." His hand touched Elsie's as if to make sure she would not say anything to question his decision. She took it, let their fingers intertwine, in front of Dr Clarkson and Mrs Crawley.

"May I ask why?"

Charles voice changed, shifted from the calm, pleasant tone he had maintained all throughout their talk, to a sterner voice, that emphasized his dislike for the whole situation Grigg had imposed upon him. "This is his part of the past, no longer mine. I do not wish to be part of this meeting although I knew Beth once." Elsie knew there was more, things he did and could not say in front of the doctor and Mrs Crawley, a deep regret that he had not been able to find the woman all these years ago. A regret that he had not forced Grigg to look for her.

"I see, well, and who will accompany Mr Grigg?" She looked from Dr Clarkson to Elsie and back again.

"It will be me, Ma'am." She felt how Charles' hand slipped away.

* * *

_tbc_

_reviews much appreciated!_


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